In Ashes of Failure
by landis icelilly
Summary: He had been at a loss for words when he approached those enduring steps.  He didn’t know quite what to say to the one person who had trusted him the most.  The night of Lord Rasler's death.  BaschxAshe [One shot]


**Author's Note:**_ Ok, I don't know where this came from but it just popped into my head and sounded really good to me. So I wrote this as sort of a personal challenge I guess. I'm kind of impressed with myself but I'm leaving it up to you guys to judge that I guess... (be nice please :D) Sorry if there is any errors because I'm sure there is... I'm not perfect. Well maybe in my little world I am ;) j/k. Plus I hope that if I post this that it will suffice for me not being able to update my other story. A trade off! lol! Ok enough of my jabbering. Read, Enjoy and most importantly REVIEW! Review twice if you would like! I carve the reviews!_

_-landis icelilly-_

**Discl:** _I do not own FFXII or any of its characters though I am using them for my own entertainment. I own nothing of Square Enix except for the video games that I have bought. The only thing that I do own is the idea from which this one shot was constructed from._

* * *

**In Ashes of Failure**

_Written by: _

_**landis icelilly**_

* * *

He had been at a loss for words when he approached those enduring steps up to the palace doors holding the fallen body of the Nabradian prince within his tired arms. He didn't know quite what to say to the one person who had trusted him the most with her precious husband, her only love. He didn't even know what to do right now as he began his ascent up those towering steps, the heavy dead weight of the body slowing him down. 

His mind was reeling with countless masses of words and phrases that he could tell them, that he could tell anyone, but he couldn't tell them to her. It, no matter what he said, would crush her frail and delicate heart like it was parchment. He had already concluded that much. Even he could feel his heart crumpling at just the thought of what his plight now was. He would tell of his falter, of his failure to everyone, to her and he would beg, the one person he knew who would most likely deny him, for forgiveness.

As his legs hoisted himself and the lifeless body up the last incline he halted and stared down the enormous steel doors that protected and barred the evil from coming within. Tonight these doors would no longer withhold the evil truth from crossing into the castle's depths as they parted and the man slowly past the threshold bringing forth the despair resting within his arms.

Only the muted gasps from the patrolling guards and the palace's many maids filled his ears alongside his rain soaked clanking chest plate and greaves as he hastily trekked toward the infirmary. His once tame flaxen hair was now plastered to the back of his neck and to his forehead, set askew from the galloping chocobo ride that he embarked on in the torrential down pour in hopes of saving his fallen Lord.

Still cradled within his armor-clad arms, the body of Lord Rasler lay there in a lifeless heap as he felt the last breath exiting his lungs forever. In a panic, he quickened his pace and practically kicked the door to the infirmary open gaining him some rather strange glances but they soon realized the severity of the situation when they took witness to the arrow protruding from the neck of the carried victim and the blood that was now oozing off of both the men's armor onto the marbled floor.

"Please help him," was all that he could huff out as he tried to catch his breath but was proven difficult.

He was answered with a nod of several heads and was then instructed to leave him within their care as the healers and their assistants pulled the armored prince from his now shaking arms.

It seemed like hours had flown by as he stood numbly in the same position he had when he entered the room. He watched as the healers removed the bloodstained arrow from his throat and discarded it into an invisible container. Next they began to chant and perform fluid movements that combined together to create a spell that he himself was not familiar with. Soon the room was filled with a white and purple hazy fog that encompassed the injured body and began to swirl about in multiple directions as a blue light was being emitted from the young Lord's body. Suddenly the light intensified, blinding him from seeing the rest of the procedure. Shortly, when the room cleared itself of the strange fog and vivid light, he had caught a glimpse of the elder healer as he slowly cast down his head and sadly shook it from side to side.

Suddenly a huge lump jumped up into his throat as the healers approached him. They all looked extremely saddened and only one was emotionally sound enough to speak the grave news.

"I'm sorry Captain; we… were unable to revive Lord Rasler. Galtea watches over his body now."

A sudden pain welled up into his chest as he was only able to nod his head in acceptance to their news before turning and walking out the infirmary doors. Quietly, as he stood just outside the wooden doors, he mentally and physically tried to compose himself before he took on the task of becoming the messenger of bad news. It wasn't the anticipation of presenting it to the King or the rest of the Military Council; it was he having to meet face to face with the Princess of Dalmasca that would break him.

The Lady Ashe, barely old enough to be married, would now at the age of seventeen, already become a widow in merely a month's time. She was too young to bare this, to really know what its like to lose someone so close to their heart. He didn't know how he would pull through when the innocent tears would fall from her cheeks or when the bright smile he adored would fall from her small lips. He didn't know how he would approach her to bring about the sorrowful news or when she would need a comforting shoulder to cry on. He wouldn't know what to do when the message actually sank in and she remembers his failure to her promise, ultimately casting him aside with malice and hatred for heart wrenchingly breaking it in front of her. He honestly didn't know and he feared that very thought the most. He didn't know what he would do if he lost her trust. It would be probably his ultimate demise.

As his thoughts and emotions still surged through him in a blur, he embarked on his new journey feeling that no better time would come. Just as he had predicted, the members of the Military Council and His Royal Majesty King Raminas, had been greatly saddened by the news but none of them had entrusted him with a promise as great as what hers was so therefore it didn't tug at his heart near as much.

When it really hit him was the moment he approached her bed chamber door and the stinging anguish that pounded within his chest became apparent. He just couldn't imagine her ever forgiving him for this mistake, _his_ mistake and it scared him. His fear of losing her trust was quickly taking hold of his sanity and he couldn't really think straight anymore. He mentally kicked himself to get a grip of his emotions; he was a soldier for Gods sakes! He needed to act like one!

Hastily he steeled himself, barred of any expression and his face wiped clean of emotion, before he took a knuckle and firmly rapped it against the dark Feywood door. He held his breath as he heard a quiet rustle emit from behind the thick door, followed by the light pitter patter of her naked feet as they smacked against the marbled floor. Slowly the air seeped out of his lungs as he exhaled before sharply taking in another when the enormous door creaked open and a very heavy lidded, disheveled princess popped her head out in confusion.

"Basch?"

"Your Highness," he spoke gravely, head lowered and sullen eyes closed, "I wish to speak to you in private."

He opened his azure eyes and focused them on the sapphire ones that were curiously searching his. He could already feel the crack that was forming within his heart as she pulled the door wide so that he may enter into her quarters. The door silently clicked shut behind him but he continued to walk out onto the balcony that she had conveniently left open from her earlier occupation of the landing.

He grasped the railing that outlined the stone ledge and inhaled a deep breath of the fresh rain soaked breeze that felt cool against his burning cheeks as he winced in anguish.

A slight shiver ran up his spine and took him by surprise, causing him to quickly turn in her direction. She had slowly walked up behind him and was reaching a timid hand up to his back in order to comfort him. He knew that she didn't know what troubled him but shortly he would divulge the horrible truth to her. But right now he had to get control of the situation, of his internal struggle, before he could face her. He felt as if he needed to regain his pride somehow. He had become so soft and emotional over the last three years but had seemingly kept the stoic mask on top of it, disguising it from everyone but the one female that currently occupied his time. He couldn't hide, mask, or keep anything from the young princess nor could he take. His soul duty to her was only to give and protect, nothing more, nothing less.

But tonight he would surely break that oath, yanking something of importance from the poor woman's chest and brutally mangle it into something completely unrecognizable, undistinguishable to her.

"Basch? What is troubling you?" came her soft angelic tones from beside him.

The shiver intensified within his spine becoming slightly uncomfortable as it slithered upward toward where her hand rested upon his left shoulder blade, a top the metal plating of his armor. Gently he pulled himself out from under her touch and turned to sadly gaze into her confused and helpless eyes.

"Please Basch tell me. I do not like seeing you so troubled, "she cooed tenderly as the breeze toyed with her hair sending sparse strings into her face which she subconsciously pulled back behind her ears.

This would kill him, he already knew. He could already feel it as the tear grew larger inside his ribs and the stinging sensation that plagued his eyes was becoming more pronounced.

He was not going to cry he screamed to himself mentally, he was a grown man. A battle hardened warrior who laughed in the face of anything! Basch fon Ronsenburg did not cry.

With a shaky breath, he tenderly held out his hands begging for hers which she gladly permitted him to take into his own. He squeezed them tightly for a moment and then returned his attention back to those inquisitive blue gems that sat just perfectly upon her features, making it even harder for him as he imagined the salty streams that would be breaking over the brim and crashing down her soft cheeks.

"Basch,"

She was encouraging him, the push that he needed so that he could swallow the hard lump that was stuck in his throat, preventing him from speaking. Slowly he brought his forehead forward in a slight nod acknowledging her reassurance and took a final inhale of the crisp night air.

"Your Highness… I am deeply pained to have to bring you word of such horrible events at this late hour but…" he could not finish as he started to choke on the next words to leave his lips.

Her beautiful eyes began to grow wide with panic as the royal blue irises clouded into a stormy dark hue when the tears began to well up at the brims of her eye lids. The anguish inside of his chest began to intensify severely as his own heart was about to be ripped into two separate halves when he witnessed the glistening of the salty flux welling up in those innocent eyes.

"Please Basch; tell me whatever it may be."

It was barely more than a whisper and he hated himself for dragging this out and causing her more distress. He loathed himself for forcing her to show vulnerability and fear, which she would strangely only display within his presence. She would always seek comfort and complacency in his companionship but that might not be anymore if he continues with his plight.

"…I am truly sorry… but… Lord Rasler has… "

He choked back a sob that was pushing up his throat as he watched the teeny pear-shaped tears fall from her lashes, streaking down onto her small porcelain cheeks. She gently shut her eyes; forcing more of the liquid salt to splash out onto the black lashes as she slowly spoke saying what he could not.

"He is dead is he not?"

It had been so straight forward, so calm that it had caught him off guard. But her tears really began to stream down her cheekbones and the sides of her face as her knees buckled under her weight and she collapsed to the floor bringing him down to his own knees as well.

"I'm so sorry that… that I have… failed you," he pleaded to the woman kneeling before him as his own tears became visible, threatening to spill.

He watched, through watery, hazy vision, his young princess' heart shatter into a million pieces along with his own as the pieces fell into the dark abyss forever. She gave him no answer as he still clung tightly to her frail hands which were dwarfed by the largeness of his, and he began to let the panic settle in. That underlining fear of losing her and her trust within him, had mostly sat dormant until tonight, when recent events brought it back to the foregrounds.

"Your Highness?"

Nothing.

"Lady Ashe?"

Silence.

"Ashelia, please," he begged in a whispered panic as he lowered his head, his chin meeting his chest.

She still remained quiet and unmoving.

The final strand of his heart that was holding it all together broke that instant and the pain became overwhelming. It felt like a lightening bolt had just struck him in the mist of having a heart attack, the grief was to strong. Everything he had feared was rearing its ugly head at him and he could only suffer the pain and do nothing else.

"I understand," he stated solemnly trying hard not to choke out anymore pride breaking sobs than what he had already coughed up. He felt the warmth begin to fade from his palms as her hands were slipped out from beneath his. He wrenched his eyelids tightly closed to will the nauseating feeling from his stomach as the agony grew to be too much for him to handle.

But before he had readied himself to depart, he felt the unexpected warmth that grew underneath his chin. Soon he sensed the gentle upward tug as she pulled his face even with hers.

"Look at me Basch," she commanded, her voice soaked with grief stricken tears.

He humbly obeyed as he looked upon her tear streamed face with much heart ache and sorrow. Softly she placed both of her delicate petite hands on each side of his head, resting her thumbs just under his eyes and wiping away the, until now, unnoticeable damp streaks that accentuated his features. This gesture caught him off guard but he didn't pull from her touch, rather, he gave into his distressed state and leaned into it. He enjoyed her comforting caresses and found that it was easing the horrid pain deep within his ribcage.

Agilely, he raised a free hand, daring to touch the sacred Dalmascan princess, and brought it up to lightly brush a stray tear from her stained cheek. But when he began to retract his hand she quickly grabbed it and held it up against her shockingly cold skin as she nuzzled herself into his glove. He watched in awe as if he was in a dazed dream, never really registering what was going on.

"I'm just glad that_ you_ came back home to me alive, like_ you_ had promised me," she whispered as the wind blew her words off her lips and into the night sky, but not before he could decipher them.

Suddenly a smile quirked up on her lips as she began to close the gap between them. He remain unmoving, mesmerized by that special seductive smile she had designed especially for him. She stopped when she was only centimeters away from his lips and took the moment to fully take in the entrapping icy blue of his eyes as the intensity froze her very soul. They were bloodshot and weary, wet from the unshed tears that coated his tired orbs and she wanted nothing more than to see them normal again.

His eyes grew wide with astonishment at her advance but she almost immediately closed the miniscule gap between them as her smooth soft lips tenderly pressed against his own. He felt the sudden warmth propel itself through his body, burning his veins as it followed his body's linear course. Her lips were so gentle and innocent against his slightly chapped and aged ones, but he wasted no time returning the gesture as he rapidly drank her sweet taste in. She tugged at his cuirass causing his body to lightly press against her own and she shivered at its metallic contact with her bare midriff. Affectionately, she toyed with his lips, caressing them with her adventurous tongue, begging for entrance, which he gladly granted her.

He couldn't deny her of anything. That was just the depth of his loyalty to her.

Their kiss became more heated as their tongues intertwined and explored the unknown measures of each other. It was a game of cat and mouse which he willingly submitting to, allowing her to be the dominating prowess. But her actions abruptly halted as he felt the fire in his bruised lips diminish, opening his eyes in question. He looked as if he was a lost puppy to her, confused and disoriented within the aftermath, as he peered deep into her sapphire orbs expectantly.

"It is you Basch fon Ronsenburg that I have always loved."

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ So what did ya think? Yah... Nay? Review and let me know!_


End file.
